


Faded Violet

by Lanerose



Category: Romeo x Juliet (Anime)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 22:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanerose/pseuds/Lanerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Mercutio does not approve of the state of Hermione and Romeo's courtship.  Series insert to episodes 7, 8.  Mercutio/Hermione.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faded Violet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ryn](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ryn).



> Happy Yuletide! I originally attempted a fluff piece, but then Mercutio wouldn't cooperate, because he's manipulative like that, and so it came out like this. I'm not sure it's (at all) what you were expecting, and I do apologize about that, but I had a lot of fun writing this (Mercutio is bloody awesome), so I hope it was fun for you to read as well. Cheers!

Mercutio was in the palace kitchen when he heard Hermione's voice from behind a row of pans.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble," she was saying, "could you make certain to include some of Lord Romeo's favorite desserts with the tea? I think... that is, I believe I recall having seen him eat your raspberry tarts."

"Ah yes, my lady has a keen eye," the head chef said. Through the pans, Mercutio could see Hermione blushing, the faintest hint of crimson lighting up her cheeks. The chef made a notation on a scrap of parchment. "Lord Romeo will certainly appreciate your thoughtfulness."

Mercutio set the pitcher of coffee he'd been preparing for his father aside and pushed the pans out of his way. Hermione and the chef jumped, startled.

"Raspberry tarts and tea for a romantic evening?" He asked, looking at the two of them askance over the food preparation tables. "Raspberry tarts? I am certain that our chef can think of more appropriate fare for two young lovers to eat while taking in the fireworks this evening. Which is your purpose, if I have divined aright, fair Hermione?"

Hermione blushed even deeper as he talked. The chef, too, went red. He drew in a breath to shout something – whether about the slander against his kitchen or the propriety of remarks about a young lady, Mercutio would never be sure, as Hermione spoke first.

"You are correct, sir, but I am not..." Hermione said softly, then paused. She folded her hands against her chest, her purple-blue eyes demurely focused on the floor. "As Lord Romeo and I are but so recently engaged, tea and conversation during the fireworks seems most appropriate."

"Of course, m'lady, of course. I meant no offense," Mercutio said. He waived a hand defensively in front of his face, wincing as the pans dropped back into place and half-obscured her from view. "Please let me know if I may be of assistance to you in your courtship with Romeo in any way, as I hold him ever dear to my heart and have longed long to be of service to him."

"My thanks for your kindness." Hermione squared her shoulders, looking away from him and back to the chef. "Good sir, if you would be so good as to have all in place on the east tower before eight this evening?" The chef nodded. "Then, if you both will excuse me?"

She curtsied quickly, and hurried from the room. Mercutio continued to hold the pans aside with one hand, ignoring the chef, who immediately began berating him. He watched her go, blond hair swaying softly as she went.

"My cousin Romeo does not appreciate the good things in his life, I think," Mercutio said. She vanished out the door. Mercutio dropped the pans and checked the coffee – still warm, though his father probably wouldn't have noticed even if it wasn't. He gathered it up, and hurried back to where the lout was hopefully still waiting.

  
**~ ~ ~**   


The bottle of champagne rested coolly in the crook of Mercutio's arm as he approached the east tower at the end of the fireworks show. He had two flutes in his hand – only two, for he intended to perform this service and leave as quickly as he could. He waited until the booming ceased, gave them an extra moment to recover in case Romeo had managed to kiss her, and then stepped onto the terrace.

"Congratulations to the happy coup- !"

Mercutio's shout caught in his throat at the distinct lack of Romeo's presence. Hermione turned to him, her right hand rising to quickly to brush tears from her face.

"Mercutio," she said, looking away, hand fiddling with her skirt, "how unkind of you to intrude here."

"I confess, I did not mean to intrude for very long." He set the champagne flutes and the champagne upon the untouched table, still set with tea and Romeo's favorite raspberry tarts. "But where is Lord Romeo?"

Hermione's glance darted to his face, then away again as she turned to look at the trails of smoke fading in the evening air. "I am uncertain."

"A lady always has suspicions," Mercutio countered. He paused. "You are certain he is not trysting with another damsel? For your honor, I would speak to his lordship the Duke if it be so."

"No!" Hermione said sharply, and then more calmly, "No. He told me the night we were engaged that there was no one else."

"Then where?"

"I do not know," she said after a moment, "but I suspect he is visiting with his good friend Benvolio, and has simply forgotten the time." She paused again, and said, "You should leave before he arrives."

"Benvolio?" Mercutio joined her at the balcony railing. "Not the Benvolio whose father used to be mayor of Neo-Verona?"

"The same," Hermione said. She drew in a sharp breath and turned to him. "You are his friend, also, are you not, Mercutio? You would not bring such information to his father? You know the Duke would not approve."

Mercutio forced his expression to be as pleasant and calming as possible. He laughed. "Of course, for Romeo's sake, such a secret must be kept close."

He leaned closer to her, and his nearness must have started her for her eyes went wide. "But I do not like it in him that he would leave so beautiful a violet to wilt alone."

"You are mistaken, sir." Her head tilted away, hand rising to her chest, but she did not retreat from him. "Beauty and I are as yet unacquainted."

"I disagree," Mercutio said. Lightning-quick, he dropped a kiss upon her lips and darted back. Hermione stared at him, blinking slowly, mouth working up and down but no sound emerging. She didn't scream or slap him, though, which Mercutio perceived as permission to kiss her again. She went unresistingly into his arms, soft and pliant against him as he took a longer, deeper taste of her, sliding his tongue between her open lips and massaging hers lingeringly with it. For a long moment, she stayed, passive.

Then, she came alive suddenly in his grasp, pushing against him, turning away, though he doesn't let her go and she was still pulled close against him.

"This is not right," Hermione said, shuddering breaths racking her frame. "You know I am promised to your cousin, that I would give myself to Lord Romeo with all my heart. What will you do if he returns from his visit to Benvolio and finds us here?"

"Shall we ask him to join us?" Mercutio whispered in her ear. He slid a hand up from around her waist until it reached her breast, and ran his thumb slowly over its peak. Hermione moaned, knees weakening as she leaned on him for support. "Surely my cousin would not be so mean as to refuse to share."

"Lord Romeo is a gentleman," Hermione said, back arching as Mercutio kissed her neck. No biting – no marks, no evidence, just lazy kisses.

"And I'm not?" Mercutio asked after a moment.

Hermione didn't – couldn't – answer.

"Well," Mercutio said, "I see how it is." He let Hermione go, pushing her away so that she fell softly against the balcony railing, hands and body moving quickly away from her. He stopped by the table to pick up the glasses and the champagne – no doubt his father had already missed the bottle and would be grateful for its return – and walked back to the tower entrance.

"Mercutio..." Hermione called as he reached the door.

He stopped, and looked over his shoulder to throw her smirk. "Good night, Hermione."

  
**~ ~ ~**   


"You are sure of this?" the Duke asked in the morning, when Mercutio related the story of Romeo's misdeeds. He had edited, of course, to remove his own, but in whole the story was truth.

"That he was with Benvolio, no, as that is only the lady's suspicion. For the rest, sadly yes," Mercutio replied. "It grieves me to give you ill report of him, but if you had seen the lady last night -"

"Indeed." The Duke's brow furrowed deeper than usual. "Guards, inform my son that I would see him. Mercutio, take your leave."

"M'lord?"

"You must remain in my son's confidence, to report on him to me in the future." Duke Montague scowled, but Mercutio could see that the expression was not aimed at him.

"I shall, m'lord." Mercutio bowed low, and exited.

Mercutio wandered the halls afterward – too early for his father to be up, and therefore no damage for him to prevent quite yet. As he turned a corner near the sewing room, he caught sight of Hermione. She had been headed into the ladies chambers, but stopped at the sight of him.

"What did you do?" She asked. Mercutio tried to keep the smirk from his face, but knew that he was failing. She didn't wait for him to answer, but instead hurried away to the throne room.

  
**~ ~ ~**   


"How could you tell the Duke about Romeo?" her voice called to him later that afternoon as he closed the doors to his father's chambers. Mercutio had only just deposited his father there for his usual afternoon nap. "His father almost killed Cielo. He would not thank you."

"You would not tell him, and so he will not know," Mercutio said, keeping his back to her as he locked the doors. "Unless, of course, you prefer him to know about last night?"

"He would not care." The words were thick and bitter. Mercutio turned around. Hermione's eyes were red, her handkerchief still clenched between her fingers.

"Not Benvolio he was with last night, then?"

Tears burst into Hermione's eyes, but she swallowed them down. "You will leave him alone."

Mercutio stepped closer and took her cheek in his hand. "And you? Shall I be required to leave you alone, as well?"

Hermione shuddered, closing her eyes.

"You will not tell Romeo," Mercutio said. He leaned down and stole a kiss from her lips. "Don't worry, Hermione. No harm will come of it."

She opened her eyes. "And Lord Romeo?"

Mercutio stroked her cheek with his thumb, smiled, and walked away.


End file.
